


True Feelings

by RavenFal



Series: The Yuuram Love Story [1]
Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 13:03:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20779013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenFal/pseuds/RavenFal
Summary: Inspired by the fanfic "Starting Over" by Arigatomina.When Wolfram suddenly starts giving Yuri the cold shoulder, the young Maou is forced to reexamine his feelings for his fiance. What's worse, he has to prove them.





	1. Worries

“I don't get it!”

Murata Ken watched his friend pace back and forth in the main chamber of the Temple of the Original King. He and Shibuya Yuri were the only ones present (well, aside from Shinou's soul, but Yuri didn't need to know that); the twenty-seventh Maou had respectfully asked the maidens to grant them privacy.

“Why would he just stop?” Said Maou had added throwing his arms up and out to side to his worried pacing. Was he asking Murata these questions, or just venting to whatever god might hear? “And what's with suddenly suggesting Greta get her own room?”

“Don't you think she's old enough to move out of her dads' bed?”

“But that's the problem!” Yuri's hands were now fretting through his hair. “It's not our bed anymore! Wolfram moved back to the soldier's quarters!”

So the Great Sage had heard. He had also heard this was the result of some conversation Conrad had had with Wolfram, but he didn't trust the maids' interpretations beyond that point. Regardless, his friend's reaction was a pleasant surprise; if Murata could choose his words carefully enough...

“And why does that bother you?” Questions, not accusations, would serve him best here.

Yuri suddenly went stiff, his eyes nervously looking toward his friend. “Well … it's just, you know, we're family.”

“Family?” This was the second slip-up Yuri had made the past two weeks; Yuri had absentmindedly called Wolfram his fiancé when last they were on Earth.

Yuri's response was immediate. His eyes went wide, his arms shot out, and his hands started turning back and forth in a comical attempt to undo what he just said. Given that Murata was, as usual, perched on the surviving boxes from their battle with the Shoushu, it must have made a ridiculous sight.

“J-j-just wait a minute!” Yuri scrambled. “I mean, well, I'm Greta's father, and Greta calls Wolfram her father, and Conrad's my godfather, so we're _like_ family, right?”

Maybe Murata had pushed too far. But then again, strike when the iron's hot right?

“Is that really how you feel?”

Yuri's arms started to retreat toward his chest, his teeth started to clench, and his eyes started darting around the room looking for escape. “What are you talking about?” he said.

There would be no escape. “I'm asking you to more clearly express your feelings for Sir von Bielefeld,” the Great Sage said as he lost the comforting grin he'd been sporting and his eyes became hidden by the glare from his glasses.

Yuri knew he knew now. His arms reached his chest; his hands were still held up to defend himself. “Are you trying to get me to admit that I ...”

No escape. “Say it.”

Yuri's only response was to let out a pained moan as his eyes frantically searched for a way out.

“Say it.”

“Do I have to?” Yuri's eyes slowly drifted back to Murata, though his head turned slightly in retreat.

“Yes.”

The ensuing pause held for over half a minute. Murata wasn't unsympathetic to his friend's plight; Yuri _had_ spent his childhood being forced into dresses by his mother after all. He'd probably spent a good chuck on his youth telling himself (not to mention anyone who remembered seeing him in those dresses) the wasn't gay. For him to admit that he now had feelings for another guy would almost seem like he was betraying himself. And with how forward and possessive Wolfram could be, it was probably a miracle Yuri had gotten this far on his own.

“That I like Wolfram,” the sixteen-year-old meekly said.

It wasn't good enough. “'Like' how?”

Yuri clenched his hands to fists, threw his arms down, closed his eyes and yelled, “You know very well what I'm talking about!” He was angry now. That was probably a good thing, given the kind of man he was. “I _like-like_ Wolfram, okay!?”

Murata sighed through his nose; that was probably the best he'd be able to get. Still, it was enough for him to work with. “Yes,” he said, his visible once again. “So, you're upset that the man you like has started giving you the cold shoulder.” Yuri almost flinched at having said so bluntly. “Has he told you why?”

“No.” Yuri's eyes turned to the floor as his coming-out anxiety took a back seat to the melancholy of his current relationship status. “He's barely talked to me at all in days since we came back. He just keeps looking at me with a sad face he won't admit to having. He's also had the room right next to ours converted into a room Greta could have to herself.”

“Again, is that so bad?”

Yuri shook his head, his eyes still on the floor. “No. It's like you said, she needs to start sleeping in her own bed if she's going to start growing up. Even if I don't like it. But two days ago, Wolfram told me that we'd finally be having my coming-of-age party, since all that business with the Shoushu and Sara meant caused us to miss my sixteenth birthday. I thought we'd already taken care of that.”

“You went through the personal part, but nobles like the Maou are expected to put on a big party and announce their decisions publicly. Doubling down, if you will.” Murata paused to see if Yuri would react to the explanation. He didn't. “I still don't see what the big deal is, by all accounts it sounds like it'll be a fun time.”

Yuri shook his head again. “But then Wolfram told me that I'd be able to annul our engagement at the party. I could just 'write it off as a mistake of my youth,'” Yuri added air quotes to those words, “and that it would mean there wouldn't be any fallout or hurt feelings when I did. Then he didn't come to bed with me and Greta the past two nights.”

Yuri lifted his head and looked Murata in the eye again. “And I'm not the only one upset. Greta's really worried her family's about to be broken up.”

So it was out of concern for his adopted daughter that finally made him confront his feelings, Murata thought. Fitting.

“Well Shibuya,” Murata responded, “I think I might know what all this is about, but we probably shouldn't talk about it until we go back to Earth and talk to an expert.”

“An expert?” Yuri seemed to forget his melancholy for favor of confusion. Confusion which quickly turned to dread as the gears in his head finally came to a stop. Dread that showed itself on his face. “You don't mean-”

“That's right,” Murata's close-lipped smile spread as wide as it could. “Shouri will certainly have some advice for us.”

He did. Though, Yuri grimly noted, Shouri's first instinct was to simulate his current relationship status using dating sim tropes. An instinct Murata had every intention of supporting.

“From everything you've told me,” Shouri said from his desk chair, a pause dating sim the only light source in the room, “Wolfram has become something of a recluse Tsundere.”

“That's right,” Murata said with a nod before Yuri could object. “He's always had Tsundere tendencies, but never toward Yuri.”

Shouri turned back to his paused dating sim, hand on his chin as if in thought. “I see.”

Well Yuri sure didn't! How on Earth could dating sims actually predict reality? It's not like his brother had ever brought home a girl before. Still, Yuri didn't want Shouri to launch into some tirade about the glories of dating sims should he voice such thoughts, so he slumped his shoulders, gritted his teeth, and let his eyes wander Heavenward.

“And Yu-chan's coming-of-age ceremony will be held within two days of when we return?”

Wait. “We?” Yuri asked, his eyes once again on his brother.

Shouri returned the gesture. “Of course. Do you actually think Mother would ever let us hear the end of it if we didn't bring her along to such a party? And how long did you think you could keep Greta a secret from her anyway?”

Yuri had to swallow the lump in his throat before he could answer. “Y-you mean she knows?”

“Not yet, but you should probably tell her before we leave.” Shouri turned back to his computer. “Now, back to the important business.” His mom finding out about Greta was important too, darn it! “The coming-of-age ceremony is the key event – the moment in the game where you either make the right choice and win her heart, or you make the wrong choice and get a game over.” Yuri felt his teeth starting to grind. This wasn't a game! “Whatever you do here sets the course for the rest of your adult life, right?” Murata gave the affirmative. Shouri responded by pushing his glasses higher on his nose, a smug smirk growing on his face. “Well, then the answer is obvious.”

“Huh?” Yuri blinked. Obvious? What part of this was obvious?

“Really Yuri, if you can't see the answer, you're hopeless.”

“That he is, Shibuya's brother,” Murata agreed.

Yuri could only throw his confused look from one to the other. Why was he hopeless? What was so obvious? _What was the plan here?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this fic was inspired by the wonderful, but sadly unfinished, fanfiction "Starting Over" by Arigatomina, which you can find here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4899541/chapters/11236429
> 
> Any and all feedback is appreciated.


	2. Plans

It was a good plan. Yuri hated that it was a good plan. Yuri hated that his brother and Murata had left not long after to gather “teaching implements,” as Shouri had called them. But more than all of that, he hated that he had to tell his parents about Greta alone. Shouma was too stunned to say anything. Miko, however, was even more enthusiastic that Yuri had feared.

“How could you keep this from me Yu-chan!? Mama deserves to know when she's become Grandma! How long have you kept this from me!? How cute is your daughter!? Will she fit into your old dresses!? Did you tell Shouri about this before me!? I should go dress shopping immediately! Shouma, don't just sit there, we have to go dress shopping!” was what she said over the course of ten seconds.

At the sound of his name, the family patriarch started moving his look back and forth between his son and wife. Yuri wasn't sure Shouma had fully processed what he'd been told by the time Miko grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the door.

“Yu-chan, what color are her eyes? What color is her hair? How tall is she? Mama needs to know these things if she's going to go dress shopping!”

With shoulders slumped and a voice without hope, Yuri's response was barely louder than a mumble. “She's about half as tall as me, her skin has a darker complexion, she has curly red hair that stops halfway to her shoulders, and her eyes are hazel.”

And with that, his parents were out the door.

Yuri occupied himself with television and praying for Greta's safety when she finally met his mother for the next hour before Shouri and Murata returned, bearing a single bag in hand.

“Sorry we took so long, Yu-chan,” Shouri apologized with little sincerity, “are mother and father home?”

Yuri just shook his head in response.

“Oh?” Murata had that infuriating grin again. “Seems like Mama-san took the news rather well, eh Shibuya?”

Yuri just grunted in response.

“Well, it's probably better this way,” Shouri said, moving to stand between Yuri and the TV. “With what we got you, mother would be too nosy and father to prudish. You should probably take this into your room before they get back,” Shouri added, handing him the bag.

At that, Yuri cocked an eyebrow. With suspicious eyes he accepted the bag and made his way up the stairs.

Watching him go, Shouri asked in hushed tones, “You're sure that both the marriage _and_ the proposal have to be consummated in Shin Makoku culture, friend-of-my-brother?”

Murata nodded. “That was how it was in the Great Sage's time, and I double-checked that it hadn't changed in the past four thousand years.”

“And you're sure mazoku can't get STI's? We didn't buy him any condoms.”

“Not mazoku,” Murata corrected, “Just Majutsu users like you, me, Shibuya, and Sir von Bielefeld. Our magic actually destroys them. As far as I know, no one's ever figured out why.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the very loud and drawn-out “Eh!?” that came from Yuri's room.

Murata allowed himself a small chuckle. “I guess I owe you a few yen, Shibuya's brother. It sounds like he _was_ embarrassed by the gay romance magazines after all.”

Shouri gave a snobbish “Hmph” as he adjusted his glasses. “Of course I was right. Yu-chan has no experience in the world of romance, and the last thing I want is for him or his future husband to end up unable to walk because of inexperience or ignorance.”

“Mama's home!” came Miko's voice as she and Shouma piled the bags of dresses through the doorway. Shouma, seemed like a drone following its master's commands as he brought the dresses into the house; the only sign of life he held was the dazed grin on his face and the fact that he kept muttering, “I have a granddaughter,” over and over again.

“Mama-san!” Murata called from the dining room. “We weren't sure when you'd be back, so we ordered pizza! There's still a box left for the two of you!”

“How thoughtful!” Miko practically sang as she joined them. “I hope you didn't put too much unhealthy stuff on it. Growing boys need the proper nutrition after all.”

As Murata hummed the affirmative, Shouri excused himself from the table. “I should go help father,” was his reason.

“With the dresses?” Yuri asked.

“That too.”

After the older son began guiding the father toward the latter's bedroom, Miko turned to the younger son. “So, Yu-chan,” she excitedly began, “how was your day?”

Yuri's only response was a _very_ deep blush, and an angry glare at Murata when he heard the sage's muffled laughter.


	3. Fears

“Why have you done this?” Gwendal demanded.

Conrad took a deep breath. His brother was, at heart, a reasonable man. Surely he could get through to him. “His Majesty is a man of honor and duty,” he replied, his voice steady and unwavering. “Regardless of his feelings, he wouldn't break off the engagement if he felt some sort of obligation to Wolfram.”

The veins on Gwendal's forehead were starting to stand out, and the interlocked fingers upon which the elder brother's chin rested tensed. “So why didn't you tell him yourself? Why force Wolfram to be your messenger?”

“Because they both have a stake in this.” He looked from Gwendal to Gunter, who stood just off to the side of the former's chair, and back again. “It would both break Wolf's heart and humiliate him to suddenly have Yuri break the engagement at such an important event. This way, the two of them have time to prepare before it happens.”

“Even though it means he's become distant and depressed?” Gwendal countered. “And what of Greta? She's torn up over the fact that Wolfram might stop being her father. She's terrified that she'll never see him again.”

Playing on his emotions was it? He had already thought this through more than enough to counter such crude tactics. “Even if you don't recognize it, Wolfram is strong.” Gwendal grit his teeth at the insinuation. “In the end, he'll be stronger for it. And we both know Greta's fears are unfounded. Even if Wolf is no longer considered her father, he'll still live in the castle, still see her, talk to her, read to her. And he'll still be loyal servant and friend to His Majesty.”

“But you forget,” came Gunter's argument as even more veins appeared on Gwendal's forehead, “His Majesty is also left emotionally vulnerable when such major changes in the status quo take place. That vulnerability could leave him open to outside manipulation.”

Conrad wasn't sure what the royal adviser thought he was implying, but he was a big enough man to ask. “What do you mean?”

“It is well known that Small Shimaron's king, Saralegi, is interested in His Majesty beyond merely the friendship the two have forged. He has also manipulated His Majesty's emotions in the past. Like you said, His Majesty is a man of honor and duty; if Saralegi takes advantage of His Majesty's emotional state following the engagement's annulment, he might convince His Majesty that the duty to his people would be best served by a political marriage between our two nations.”

Conrad's eyes betrayed him for an instant before he regained his control. It's true that he hadn't thought of Small Shimaron's king when he discussed Yuri's feelings with Wolfram, but... “Yuri is also stronger than the two of you give him credit for. Besides, he has us by his side. Should Sara try anything, we will be there to guide His Majesty away from his claws.”

It was here that Gwendal rejoined the argument. “But Saralegi isn't the only concern,” he said, barely keeping himself from gritting his teeth. “How do we know you haven't done this because of your old feelings for Julia?”

Conrad couldn't keep his eyes from betraying him this time; that was too far. Gunter apparently thought so too, as the silver-haired mazoku blanched, and his gaze shifted to the older brother. Since niceties had just been thrown out the window, Conrad decided to plant his hands on the desk and lean down to look his brother square in the eye.

“I know Julia's dead,” Conrad said, allowing the firm anger to emphasize his resolution. “I have honored her memory by being loyal to Yuri, not by lusting for him. To do so would be the greatest betrayal I could deal to Julia. All I have done is to prevent Yuri from being unwillingly bound by a mistake of his youth and ignorance. Isn't that exactly what this ceremony is for?”

And with that, he pulled himself up to his full height and took his leave with a soldier's step.

Gwendal let out a sigh as his left hand fell to the table and the right moved to support his forehead. This debacle shouldn't be an issue, but a king's marriage is political no matter what anyone told themselves. Wolfram's refusal to talk to anyone on the matter didn't do anything to help, not to mention the gossip between the maids and the guards. News had almost certainly reached beyond the castle by this point, and there was no telling how the other noble houses might react. Stoffel especially.

“That was too far,” Gunter said.

He knew it was, but it had to be said. They couldn't face the coming storm with mistrust between them, and now he knew Conrad's intentions were pure. His younger brother would forgive him by the time Yuri's coming-of-age ceremony took place. He just hoped that Conrad was right, and that the young king would prove just how strong of character he'd become since that first day he'd found himself in their world.

“Papa Wolf!” Greta cried out as she ran toward the blond mazoku.

Hearing his daughter's, or rather, his _fiancé’s_ daughter's voice stopped the mazoku in his tracks. He put on as happy a face as he could muster and welcomed the embrace as she threw herself into his arms. “Good morning Greta,” he said. “Have you been liking your new room?”

“Wolf,” Greta said with tears in her eyes, “everyone in the castle's talking about how you're not going to be my father anymore!”

Oh. He knew he'd have to have this talk eventually, but he'd hoped it could have waited until Yuri got back. “Only if he decides to annul our engagement at his coming-of-age ceremony,” he tried to reassure her.

“But, but,” the young girl stuttered through the tears, “But if he wasn't going to do that, wouldn't you two have already married by now?”

That hit too close to home, but he couldn't afford to drop his smile. He had to be strong, for her if not for himself.

His conversation with Conrad last week replayed itself in his head again. “Has Yuri made any sign that his feelings toward you have changed?” his older brother had asked. “Is he reciprocating your advances, or is he just putting up with them because he's just trying to be a good friend and doesn't want to break your heart?” Those questions, too, had hit too close to home. “If you really love him, shouldn't you give him the freedom to decide who he loves for himself?” Wolfram didn't admit it at the time, but he was terrified. He loved Yuri, but by all accounts his wimpy fiancé was completely uninterested in him. He'd hoped, convinced himself even, that Yuri was just too much of a wimp to say his feelings out loud. It wasn't perfect, but he could at least live with that.

But Conrad was right. Yuri was his own man and had to decide these things for himself. If Wolfram kept forcing his own feelings onto him, what kind of man would that make him?

“Don't worry Greta,” he said as he petted her hair. “Even if Yuri and I break up, I'll always love you. I'll still be in the castle, so you can come see me whenever you want.”

Greta's tears started to subside, only to be replaced by sniffles as the young girl tried her best to be strong. “And you'll still read to me whenever I want?” He would. “Promise?”

It may have been a sad smile, but at least now it was genuine. “I Promise,” he said.

Greta buried her face in his chest as she hugged him again. “I love you, Wolfram.”

Try as he might, he couldn't stop tears from forming on his eyes. “I love you too.”

Elsewhere in Blood Pledge Castle, the two most powerful women in the country discussed the coming events. “I can't wait for His Majesty's coming-of-age ceremony!” Former Maou Cecilie said as she practically danced around her wardrobe. “So many important people from across our kingdom, not to mention our allies, will be there.” She paused, comparing a dress with the necklace she held in her left hand before deciding they wouldn't work together. “Not to mention His Majesty's parents! I can't wait to meet them.”

Anissina von Karbelnikoff had taken a break from tormenting the residents of the castle to act as a second opinion to her former ruler's wardrobe choice. By “wait to meet them” Cecilie clearly meant “impress her future in-laws.” Rather presumptuous, what with the rumors swirling around the castle.

“Nonsense!” came the former Maou's reply once such reservations were spoken. “I have an eye for love, and trust me, my Wolf has made more progress with His Majesty than anyone realizes.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes. The key is to look for when His Majesty is most relaxed.” Cecilie paused to inspect another dress. After deciding it would be the dress she would wear, she turned back to her jewelry box; the dress had rendered the necklace wretchedly distasteful. “It used to be around Conrad, but that's changed ever since he and Wolfram returned from Big Shimaron during the trouble with the Shinzoku.”

“Oh?” If what the former Maou said was true, Anissina might just be able to pull off a big win in that betting pool the maids had set up.


	4. Desires

The meeting between Miko and Greta began just as poorly as Yuri had feared. His poor daughter was quickly overwhelmed by Miko's fast-paced compliments about how cute and adorable and nice and polite she appeared. Despite his attempts to calm his mother down, Yuri was pretty sure Greta actually became dizzy from all the dresses Miko was trying to preview on her.

Salvation came from an unexpected source – Cecilie had showed up just when Yuri was afraid his daughter was about to pass out and introduced herself as Wolfram's mother to Yuri's parents most enthusiastically, shaking both their hands and asking them what they thought of her outfit. Between that, talks of how adorable Greta was, and the fact his mother let slip the fact that she'd brought along her photo album of Yuri in dresses, the two mothers quickly detached themselves from the rest of the group. While Yuri dreaded what those two could do if left alone, he was relieved Great had survived first contact.

Greta's meeting with Shouma went much better. “Hey there Greta,” Shouma said while kneeling down to her height. “I'm Yuri's father.”

Greta's eyes seemed to sparkle when she heard that. “So your my grandfather?” she asked with the wonder only a child can bring to bear.

“Mhm,” Shouma nodded.

Without much else to say, Greta settled for, “You have a really kind-looking face.”

“Oh really? I'm glad,” Shouma responded, his smile growing right alongside the love that shown through his eyes. “I bet you know the castle better than anyone else here. Would you mind giving me a tour?”

Greta was ecstatic and more than happily accepted the request. She grabbed her grandfather's hand and excitedly started giving the tour with gusto. Shouri followed close behind to keep an eye on the two of them.

Between Cecilie, Greta, and the servants, Yuri knew his parents would find their way to their room just fine. With such immediate family concerns taken care of, Yuri faced a far worse problem: Wolfram hadn't shown up to greet them. He knew he had to talk to him at least once before the party, the sooner the better. It would be hard to find the time, given that Gwendal would demand that he resume his kingly duties of signing paper after paper as soon as the two ran into each other, not to mention how aloof the blond was being.

Of course, all that would have to wait until he had successfully stashed the “aides and tools” that Shouri and Murata had bought in in the back of his closet.

He was able to stop Wolfram after dinner, a dinner that had been very awkward for everyone. With Miko being the prying person she is, far too many personal questions had been asked. It didn't help that Cecilie was more than willing to enable her. Still, he couldn't let even his mother come between him and what he had to do now.

“Wolfram, I thought we might like to take a walk before we have to tuck Greta in for the night.”

“Oh,” Wolfram was trying to look neutral, but he couldn't hide how his eyes shifted from hopeful to pained as the considered what he should say. “Of course, Yuri,” he decided on.

Yuri wanted to confess everything then and there, but words were hard and if he came off as too forward or too hesitant, Wolfram might get the wrong idea. If Murata was right, Conrad thought Yuri hadn't annulled their engagement out of some misguided sense of duty, and if did or said anything to reaffirm that in Wolfram's mind, the plan would be thrown into the sewer. “Just be with him,” Shouri had said. “It just has to be a subtle reminder that you're not leaving.”

It was stupid. Why couldn't he have had the time to come to terms with his feelings in a way he was comfortable with? Why should politics swoop in and ruin his family life like this? Why did he suddenly have to walk on eggshells when he'd finally accepted his feelings, even if it only had to last one day? Why did his entire future have to hinge on his actions at a party? Weren't parties supposed to be fun?

Such thoughts and reservations prevented them from sharing much conversation before they found themselves at Greta's room. Knocking a few times, the two men found some peace of mind in reminding Greta that having her own room didn't mean that she got to stay up late, along with making sure she was nice and snug in her bed.

“Well,” came Wolfram's strained voice once they had each given Greta a goodnight hug, “I guess I should be going now. Goodnight Greta, goodnight Yuri,” he said with a bow before taking his leave.

“Yeah,” Yuri mumbled back, still kneeling as he watched his fiancé depart, “I'll be right behind you.”

“Yuri?” came Greta's small voice. Turning his head back, Yuri found his daughter had a worried look on her face. “Are you and Wolfram going to break up tomorrow?”

Oh. Yuri hadn't even thought about how all this had affected Greta. Mentally chiding himself for being a thoughtless parent, Yuri put on his most reassuring smile. “No Greta, I'm not.”

“Really?” Greta's voice sounded hopeful as she sat up in bed. “But everyone in the castle thinks you're going to. They say you don't love Wolfram back.”

Yuri let out a small chuckle to put her at ease. “Come now Greta, you should know better than to believe the maids' gossip,” he said while ruffling her hair a little, “you're eleven now, after all.” Lowering his hand, letting his face get serious, he met her eyes. “You really love Wolfram, don't you?”

Greta only offered a worried nod in response.

“I love him too.” There it was. He said it. He said it out loud and he couldn't take it back.

“You promise?” Greta asked, hope filling her voice.

Yuri nodded. “I promise. But you can't tell him until after the part tomorrow, okay?”

Greta looked confused in that way only children can. “Why?”

“Because if I'm going to make all this better, I need to tell him I love him in the right way.” He said it again. He didn't let the butterflies in his stomach show on his face.

Greta was still confused, but she trusted Yuri. “Okay,” she nodded before moving in for another goodnight hug.

Yuri returned the hug, and went the extra mile to kiss her once on the forehead before tucking her again. “Sweet dreams Greta.”

This was it. The party was happening, and Yuri was welcoming guests one by one. Wolfram was conducting himself as cordially as ever, though anyone who knew him could see the weight on his shoulders. Murata was flirting with any women that caught his eye. Cecilie was busy keeping Yuri's parents from causing too much of a fuss; Nicola and Hube had volunteered to assist with that. Miko and Shouma took turns playing with the baby and discussing the differences between Shin Makoku and Earth with the adults.

Conrad, Gwendal, and Gunter were busy keeping an eye on the potential troublemakers among the guest list. Nobles from the ten ruling houses were here; even Stoffel had been granted temporary release from his house arrest for the occasion. And then there were the few friends from the human lands Yuri had made. Heathcliff and Beatrice of Cavalcade were more than welcome. The representative of the now (supposedly) friendly Big Shimaron and King Saralegi of Small Shimaron, however, would be watched.

No one was foolish enough or harbored enough ill will toward Yuri to try anything violent, but anyone attempting to take advantage of the fallout from the annulment of Yuri and Wolfram's engagement would have to be swiftly intercepted and engaged in pointless conversation. Between Stoffel and Sara, the three would have their work cut out for them. It was why Jozak was busy mingling with the guests already; he would find anyone else that needed to be watched and stop them if the other three couldn't.

“If the time comes, leave Stoffel to me,” Gwendal whispered.

“Perhaps one day His Majesty will foster enough grace in his fellows that such opportunistic actions will die away,” Gunter whispered back.

“I believe he will, but that time is not yet upon us,” Conrad added. “We should probably begin mingling.”

After an hour of food, song, and exchanging pleasantries with the guests, the time for the formalities had come. Wolfram watched as Gunter took his spot at the head of the room, calling for silence. “The time has come for His Majesty, Shibuya Yuri, to choose his place in the World. Your Majesty, please approach.” The guests made way for the double black king to do so. He looked dignified, his posture both perfect and natural; he was a far cry from the foreigner who was dropped into their world fifteen months ago. “Your Majesty, do you accept your responsibilities as our king? Do you accept the burden of serving this country and its people, even as they serve you?”

“I do,” Yuri said with a smile on his face. Wolfram hoped that, after this night was through, he'd still get to see that smile now and again.

“Then I now present you with your royal crest.” Gunter held the small circular plaque high for all the guests to know. Wolfram didn't need to look; he'd helped design it. The silver crest depicted the demon sword Morgif shattering four boxes – a dramatic retelling of the victory that marked Yuri as Shin Makoku's greatest king. “It shall mark you and your heirs for all time.”

Yuri accepted the crest with grace befitting a king, though that innocent smile of his refused to leave his face. “Thank you, Gunter.”

Gunter's face flushed at the compliment, but for once he didn't let that stop him. “And speaking of heirs,” he continued as Greta ran up to stand next to Yuri, “In your youth, you chose to adopt this girl, Greta, the Imperial Princess of Zorashia. Do you now, as an adult, name her your daughter?”

It came as no surprise to Wolfram that Yuri broke that regal grace and political etiquette for this question. Instead of simply giving the affirmative, Yuri knelled down asking, “Do I accept the girl I've raised for the past year as my daughter?” before picking her up and holding her next to his shoulder, “Of course I do.”

Wolfram was ready for what was about to happen. He had had a week to prepare, after all. His emotions were under control, his expression revealed nothing of the pain gnawing at his heart, and he marched toward the end of his engagement with a soldier's poise.

“And finally,” Gunter said, “It is no secret that, on your first day in this castle, you became betrothed to Sir Wolfram von Bielefeld, third son of the previous Maou, Cecilie von Spitzweg. It is also no secret that this betrothal was made out of ignorance of our culture. Do you now renounce this betrothal as a mistake of your youth?”

“Wolfram,” Yuri turned to face him. Why? All he had to do was say, “I do so renounce it,” and they'd be done with it. “Gunter's right. When I proposed to you, I only did it because I didn't understand this kingdom's rules. It _was _a mistake. So now, there's only one thing left for me to do.”

It was finally here. Wolfram could feel tears threatening to make themselves visible. He wouldn't let them; he needed to at least retain his dignity when the night was over. Breathing in, he closed his eyes, and waited for the blow to land.

A blow did land, but not the one he expected. As it struck against his left cheek, his eyes snapped open, and his breathing became labored. Slowly, he left hand reached for his cheek, his fingers brushed against it, and his eyes finally regained focus. Slowly, his eyes drifted back to Yuri. Slowly, his head followed. Had that really just happened? All Wolfram could do was keep the stunned silence that filled the room, his eyes locked with Yuri's.

Yuri still had that stupid grin on his face. Greta was wearing it now too. They held his gaze for a moment, and Wolfram could see courage gathering in Yuri's eyes. Then he heard them. Yuri said the words he'd longed to hear for over a year. “I love you, Wolfram.”

It was too much. He couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks, he couldn't stop the sobs from escaping his mouth, and he couldn't stop himself from throwing his arms around his family. _His family!_

A polite applause began building from the guests. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Wolfram knew Heathcliff had been the one to start it. And as the applause grew to full force, no one was able to stop Shibuya Miko from running through the crowd and glomping her son, granddaughter, and son-in-law-to-be.

“Yu-chan! Wolf-chan! I'm so happy for you!”

Not one to be outdone, Cecilie joined the group hug in similar fashion. And with the mood appropriately ruined, all the betrothed men could do was laugh, their foreheads leaning on one another.

The guests were gone, Jozak was making sure they left without incident, the Shibuya family had been escorted back to their rooms, and Yuri and Wolfram were busy putting Greta to bed. That left Gunter, Gwendal, and Conrad to roam the castle halls undisturbed.

“His Majesty truly is full of surprises,” Gunter said. “Really, I can only fault myself for not expecting such a grand display of love from His Majesty in the first place. Truly his Majesty is-”

Gwendal blocked out Gunter's fawning as he turned to his younger brother. “Are you satisfied now, Conrad?”

Wearing that gentle smile of his, Conrad nodded. “I am. If marrying Wolfram is truly His Majesty's choice, then I have no objections.”

Gwendal nodded back. “Good.” With that, the three men parted ways for the night.

This was the best feeling in the world, Yuri decided. Pressed against the door to their bedroom, Wolfram's arms around his neck, his arms around Wolfram's midsection, the couple shared their first kiss. It was brief, simple lip-to-lip contact, but when Wolfram pulled back, he still looked starstruck.

“I've waited far too long to do that,” the blond mazoku said, arms still wrapped around Yuri's neck. “How was it?”

“It was wonderful, Wolfram,” Yuri answered. He gave a quick glance toward his closet, where the “supplies” Murata and Shouri had bought him were hidden. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous, maybe even a little afraid, about what came next.

“Yuri?” Wolfram had noticed it. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, it's just, you know...” Yuri stuttered. He didn't know how anyone could talk about this kind of stuff.

“Just say it wimp.”

He wasn't a wimp! “I've never done this before okay!” He didn't mean to be that loud, but he hated when Wolfram called him that. After giving himself a second to breathe again, he noticed Wolfram had a confused look on his face.

“Kissing?” Wolfram asked.

Yuri's eyes found their way back to the closet, and a blush found its way onto his cheeks. “That too,” he mumbled.

His eyes returned to Wolfram just in time for the blond mazoku to realize what he was trying to say. And laugh about it. “You really are a wimp Yuri. We don't have to consummate the betrothal right away if you don't want to.”

“Eh?” But Yuri almost had enough courage to do it! He couldn't let himself chicken out now, could he?

“Of course not.” Wolfram slinked out of the embrace and moved towards his dresser; he had ordered the maids to move his clothes back to this room at the end of the ceremony. Letting the dresser door hide his body, he began changing into his pink negligee. “Yuri,” he explained when he saw the double black king was still watching him from the door, “when we make love, I want you to be at your best. That means you have to be sure of yourself – no hesitation.”

Yuri's blush deepened. It's true he wasn't sure he was ready, and his parents (well, mostly his mother) had told him to make sure not to have sex unless he was over one-hundred percent sure he was ready for it. That was most definitely _not _the case tonight. Sighing dejectedly, Yuri made his way to his own dresser.

“If we're doing … _that_ tonight,” Yuri called from behind his dresser's door, “what _should _we do?” He didn't want to waste the romantic mood.

“Well,” Wolfram called back from the bed, “you said that was your first kiss. Shall we try something a little more _risqué_?”

Yuri didn't have to see Wolfram to feel the eyebrow wiggle that came with that question. His blush definitely wasn't going away any time soon. Those magazines Murata and Shouri had bought him _did_ contain some rather descriptive examples of kissing. What if he messed up?

No. He couldn't afford to be any more of a wimp tonight. This was their night, and he was going to make sure they never forgot it. Taking a deep breath, he emerged from his dresser in his blue pajamas, left his worn close at the foot for the maids to wash in the morning as Wolfram had just done, and turned to face his fiancé. His breath caught in his throat.

In the past, Wolfram would address him from their bed while sat on both knees or, if he was tired, from under the blankets. Tonight, however, he had splayed himself out across their bed, a seducing smirk on his face.

Yuri vaguely wondered if this was how magnets felt; he was pretty sure his legs were moving on their own. He arrived at edge of the bed, climbed on, knelt over Wolfram, met his fiancé’s gaze, and froze. What was he supposed to do next? What if he messed it up? What if he–

“Wimp.” Wolfram pulled him down until their lips met. After overcoming the shock, Yuri felt his body relax.

“Lean into the kiss,” that one magazine had said, “be flush with your partner.” So he did. He lowered his body until his chest was pressed against Wolfram's, his limbs loosely wrapping themselves around his fiancé’s body. Wolfram, meanwhile, kept his left arm around Yuri's neck while his right hand explored the back of Yuri's head. It was intoxicating. Closing his eyes, letting Wolfram take control of when their mouths were touching, when their lips were open or closed, whose tongue entered whose mouth, Yuri decided that he had been wrong earlier. _This_ was the best feeling in the world.

Two weeks later, he changed his mind again. Making love to Wolfram was now the best feeling in the world.


	5. Dreams

“Are you sure?” Conrad asked.

Three months had passed since Yuri's coming-of-age ceremony. Yuri was back on Earth for the week; high school finals were calling. His parents were rather insistent that he finish high school before making Shin Makoku his permanent residence. In his absence, Wolfram and Cecilie were in charge of wedding preparations.

“Of course I am,” Wolfram responded, crossing his arms in defiance. “You should have seen Yuri's response when I asked him.”

Conrad could imagine what the response had been. He was also fairly certain Wolfram was misreading the situation. “He said he wanted you to wear a wedding dress?”

“Well … not in so many words,” Wolfram conceded.

Conrad was not surprised in the least, and his face showed it. “Then please explain to me _exactly_ what happened.”

“Well, I couldn't decide whether I'd rather wear a white suit or a wedding dress,” Wolfram began, “so when Yuri brought me with him to Earth the last time, I asked his mother what she thought.”

Mistake number one, Conrad thought. “Ah. I take it she favored the dress?”

Wolfram nodded the affirmative. “She took me to try on many wedding dresses from stores around Yuri's home city. In the end, I was able to help her settle on three styles, and we took sample portraits of them with those little flashy boxes.”

“Cameras,” Conrad reminded him.

“That's not the point. The point is that I showed them to Yuri, along with the design for the suit I might wear.”

“And His Majesty said that he wants you to wear the dress? He said those words exactly?”

“Well,” Wolfram's cheeks were turning pink, “no. He liked the suit – he said I'd look like a prince from a fairy tale come to whisk him away – and he didn't like the first two dresses. But when he saw the third, he tried imagining me in it, and then he suddenly ran away while clutching his nose.”

It took Conrad a moment to realize what his younger brother was implying. “A nosebleed?”

“Mhm,” Wolfram responded. “The Great Sage was there too. He told me that when people from Japan get nosebleeds out of nowhere like that, it's a sign of sexual arousal.”

So His Holiness was to blame for this. If Conrad wasn't a loyal soldier... “So you want to wear this dress because Yuri will be aroused?”

Cheeks still pink, Wolfram gave a firm nod. “I want my wedding night to be the best night of my life. Yuri's too. What better way than this?”

Conrad suppressed a sight; Wolfram was truly their mother's son. “Wolfram, the whole day should be the best day of your lives, shouldn't it?”

Wolfram gave him a sideways look. “I fail to see how the dress conflicts with that.”

“It's just, a wedding should be about the _love _between you and Yuri, not the _lust_, right? It should be about how you'll always be there for each other, how your bond is unbreakable, about pledging your hearts and souls to one another. Will it really mean that to Yuri if he's distracted by his libido the whole day?”

The blush left Wolfram's face, his shoulders sunk, and his eyes focused; Conrad had gotten through to him. Yet the blond mazoku still searched for one last excuse, his eyes drifting dejectedly towards the photo of him in the dress. “But Jennifer was so excited about the dress.”

Conrad was prepared. “I think I know of a way you can satisfy Miko-san and still where the suit to the wedding.”

“How?” Wolfram asked, turning his head to face Conrad for the first time since this conversation started.

“It's simple,” Conrad said with his characteristic smile. “You get both, wear the suit to the wedding itself, then change into the dress just before the wedding night.” Wolfram's blush returned. Conrad had won.

Within moments, Wolfram was rushing out the door to make sure the best tailor in the country started working on his wedding suit. Conrad took a more leisurely pace when exiting the room.

“You succeeded?” Gwendal's voice came from his right. The green-clad mazoku was leaning against the wall just next to the doorway.

Conrad replied with a thumbs up. “Crisis: averted.”

The wedding was fairly similar to Catholic weddings, just with the blessings of God replaced with those of the Shinou. Greta acted as flower girl; Wolfram's mother gave him away at the alter; the only noticeable difference was the lack of ring bearers. That, and the fact that Murata was the one presiding.

“Having the Great Sage himself preside would make this the most memorable wedding in Shin Makoku history,” Murata had argued. “I'm sure Wolfram would love that.” Darn him for pulling on his heartstrings like that.

Still, Yuri was impressed that he stayed on script. Throughout the hour of blessings and homilies on love, Murata didn't make a jokes or innuendos, nor did he wink or wiggle his eyebrows even once. The only change from a traditional Shin Makoku wedding came just before the vows.

“Before the couple says their vows,” Murata declared, “His Majesty wished to incorporate an aspect of Earth weddings into the ceremony.”

A quick glace out of his left eye told him that Wolfram was curious, but not mad at the unexpected addition. And it reminded him of just how stunning his husband-to-be looked in that white suit. He returned his eyes to Murata as the Great Sage brought out the small box in his left hand, and opened it with his right. He knew his classmates would talk when they saw him wearing it. His teachers too, probably. But to hell with them; this was his day, and he'd do it right.

“On Earth, newlyweds exchange matching rings with each other.” Yuri was pretty sure he heard his mother shriek with glee. “The rings act as a way of showing others that you're spoken for, and a reminder of the eternal bond between spouses.” Another glance revealed to him Wolfram's wide-eyed wonder as the blond mazoku took it all in. “Your Majesty Shibuya Yuri, please take the ring closest to you.”

Yuri did just that, holding the small object between his fingers with the care he'd hold a child with.

“Now turn to Wolfram, and place it on his hand.”

Tenderly taking Wolfram's left hand in his, Yuri slipped the ring onto Wolfram's ring finger.

“Do you, Shibuya Yuri, before the spirit of His Majesty Shinou, take Wolfram von Bielefeld, son of Cecilie von Spitzweg, as your husband; to hold, cherish, and love, through the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, through war and peace, until death do you part?”

Looking his beloved in the eyes, Yuri almost let the words get caught in his throat. “I do.”

“Wolfram von Bielefeld, take the ring closest to you.” Wolfram did so. “Now, place it on Yuri's hand.”

Wolfram mirrored Yuri's previous movements, practically lost in a trance as he took it all in.

“Do you, Wolfram von Bielefeld, before the spirit of His Majesty Shinou, take Shibuya Yuri, son of Shibuya Shouma, as your husband; to hold, cherish, and love, through the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, through war and peace, until death do you part?”

Wolfram brought his eyes, barely holding back the tears by this point, to meet Yuri's. “I do.”

“Then as the Great Sage of Shin Makoku, by the power vested in me by His Majesty Shinou, I pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss.”

And to thunderous applause, they did.

They stood before the door to their bedroom. Tomorrow they'd begin their month-long honeymoon: a two-week tour of Shin Makoku, followed by a two-week tour of Switzerland at Bob's expense. But now was the time for their wedding night, and Yuri was going to make sure he started it off right.

“Wait Wolfram,” Yuri said as he stopped his husband (it was going to take him a while to get used to calling him that) just after the blond mazoku could enter the room.

“What is it Yu-RI!?” Wolfram let out a startled cry as the double black Maou picked him up bridal style, forcing the blond mazoku to throw his arms over his husband's shoulders. “J-j-just what are you doing!?” he asked, his cheeks turning red.

They were almost as red as Yuri's. “Well, it's just...” No. No hesitation. This was his wedding night for crying out loud. He couldn't afford to act like a wimp. “In the west, back on Earth,” he explained, “the husband carries the wife through the entrance to the bedroom.”

“So I'm the wife?”

“Oh, well, it's just-” Yuri tried to explain himself before he was cut off by Wolfram nuzzling against shoulder and neck.

“I can live with that,” the blond mazoku said coyly.

With both their faces still blushing furiously, Yuri carried his husband towards their first night of matrimony.

Conrad was right; the surprise of the wedding dress really did cement this as the best night of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really happy I finished this fic. Too many of my ideas just stay in my head and rot.  
I hope y'all liked it.


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